My Own Best Enemy
by Skylark Starflower
Summary: Sam is still having trouble dealing with what happened at the end of The Devil's Playhouse, despite himself, and events take an... interesting turn after a trip to a local high school science fair. As well, the clones are having problems of their own.
1. Prologue

Author's Note/Disclaimer: I don't own Sam and Max, they belong to Steve Purcell. I'm not making any cash from this, it's just for fun. Please don't sue me?

**Prologue**

It was late, and yet through the drawn curtain, Sam could tell the light was on inside. Even still, he was uncertain, pacing back and forth on the dimly lit sidewalk as he attempted to screw up the courage to ring the doorbell.

The cockroach riding on his hat rim chose that moment to speak up. "What's the matter, Papa? Aren't you going to talk to her?"

"I will, just gimmie a minute, okay?"

"She's your friend, right? Go on!"

Sam grumbled, and continued to pace. He had come here hoping to talk to Sybil partly because she had once been his therapist, sort of, and he figured if anyone could help him sort out his issues, she could, but also because he considered her a friend and someone he could talk to. Actually doing it was hard, though. He tried to tell himself the problem was mostly the hour at which he was calling; he didn't want to disturb the baby.

As it turned out, the problem was solved when his thoughts were interrupted by a voice from the door. "Sam? What are you doing pacing in front of my house at this hour?"

"Sybil!" Sam's hands flew to his tie to loosen it somewhat, as he suddenly felt like he was being choked. "I… uh…"

She shook her head. "Never mind. Come inside, won't you? It's a bit chilly to be outside tonight."

"Ah… yeah, okay."

Sybil stepped aside to allow Sam through the doorway, closing it behind him before leading him to the living room. "Take a seat."

Sam plunked himself down on the only chair that didn't look like it had been supporting the weight of a giant stone head. Clutching his hands in his lap, he stared at them, still unsure of how to start.

Sybil returned to her spot on the couch where she had been watching television. Picking up the remote, she flicked the screen off and focused her attention on Sam.

A rather awkward silence fell.

It became clear as the moments ticked by that Sam wasn't going to be the one to start the conversation, so she did. "You still sound a little congested. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, much better. Well rested, at least, if not well adjusted." Though he tried to joke, both it and his attempt at a reassuring smile fell flat, unable to get past how he was truly feeling. His expression fell further as she watched him with a strangely blank look and he returned to staring at his hands. Silence fell once more.

Sybil sighed. "Look, I know you didn't come here to talk about your health, or just to chat. I notice Max isn't with you. Is everything alright?"

Sam shook his head slowly. "Max is the reason I'm here…"

"Is something wrong with him? Did he eat your baseball card collection or something?"

"No, it's nothing like that." Sam paused to take a breath before plunging onwards, the words spilling out of his mouth in a hasty jumble as he tried to express himself as quickly as possible before he lost the nerve again. "The thing is, Max and I have been best friends since we were adorable, fluffy little scamps. We've rarely left each other's sides our whole lives. But now here we are. I know that this Max had his own Sam, but that's the thing. It wasn't me, you know? I mean, it was, but it wasn't. This Sam and Max had different adventures and different weird banter and… and everything! And now I feel like I can't relate to my little buddy anymore!"

"Oh, Sam…" For a moment Sybil considered going over and giving the troubled pooch a hug, but she decided against it, aware of how uncomfortable he already was. "I know it's hard when situations change, especially with a close friend, but, and I'm not trying to say that your feelings are unimportant here, have you tried thinking about things from Max's point of view? You're not the only one who has suffered a loss and he might be feeling out of sorts, too. It might help if you talk with him about it."

"I admit, I never thought of it like that. Honestly, neither of us likes to talk about what happened to us. All I know about the fate of the other me is that he was mutated and then blown up. I don't really know what happened or what role Max played in it all, and I'm not sure I really want to. All the same, I've never really told him anything about… the Incident. I just can't bring myself to talk about it."

"You know it was Max who brought you to the hospital after you passed out from exhaustion, right?"

The question came from out of seemingly nowhere, catching Sam off guard. "I… uh, never thought to ask. I just assumed that was the case. Why?"

"Once the doctors were seeing to you and had kicked him out, he found me. You should have seen it, Sam. I don't think I've ever seen Max so distressed before. He was certain you were going to die again, and it took an awful lot of persuasion to calm him down and convince him you'd be okay. He wouldn't believe that you just needed rest after the way you overtaxed yourself that week or so.

"Sam, he really cares about you, that much you can count on, at least."

"That's reassuring," Sam mumbled, unable to help a small, but somewhat sad, smile. "Though some of his weird new habits are a little worrying."

"Oh, like what?"

"Just little things. Like thunderstorms. Max used to love them. He always wondered what it would be like to get struck by lightning. Now he gets all squirrely and keeps giving me these funny looks." Sam paused, his brow furrowing as he remembered something. "He does it when I hiccup, too. It's weird."

Sybil smiled and let out a small laugh. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. Honestly, I think all you two need is some time to adjust, and before you know it, everything will be back to normal."

For the first time since he had arrived, Sam wore a real, happy smile. "Thanks, Sybil. I knew you'd be able to help put things in perspective."

"Don't mention it. What are friends for, after all? Though next time, I'd appreciate it if you'd call first."

Sam's smile turned awkward. "Yeah, sorry about that. But still, thanks." He stood up. "I'd better be going. Don't want to take up any more of your time."

Sybil stood and walked him to the door, opening it for him. "Goodnight, Sam."

Sam turned and waved as he went through the door. "'Night, Sybil."

She watched him fade into the darkness as he headed down the dimly lit streets towards home. There were a few things she hadn't told him about, things Max had discussed with her in the hospital. She hadn't brought them up because they was about her and Sam and as such, didn't seem relevant at the time, but now she couldn't stop thinking about it.

With a sigh, she turned to go back in, closing and locking the door behind her. It was probably best he didn't know about that, anyway.

X X X

In the darkness, he could only reliably count on scent and sound to guide him on his trail. The rustling of the leaves was the only sound, but the stink of fear in the air was almost palpable, serving only to make him angrier. He quickened his pace.

He grunted as the smell of blood invaded his nostrils, and slowed down again. He knew now what he was going to find, he didn't need to hurry anymore. He was already too late.

It didn't take long for the coppery odour to overwhelm his senses as he reached his destination. Slumped against a tree, dimly lit in what little moonlight filtered through the leafy canopy, was one of his brothers, a fellow clone, and he was clearly dead. He'd been shot multiple times, never stood a chance.

The anger and grief warring inside him escaped in a sound that was something between a snarl and a howl and he sank to his knees next to the body.

"I swear to you, I will find out who's doing this, and when I do, they will pay dearly."


	2. The Science Fair

Author's Note/Disclaimer: I don't own Sam and Max, they belong to Steve Purcell. I'm just borrowing them for a crazy little stroll.

This story is set post-Devil's Playhouse. Now, I've always viewed the Sam and Max cartoon as its own little universe, separate from the comics and games, but I had a use for one of the characters from the show, so I hope you don't totally hate how I fit them into this world. Anyway, read on and give it a chance?

"**My Own Best Enemy"**

**Based on the hastily scrawled barroom napkin note "Sam and Max and Sam and Max and Sam…"**

**By Skylark Starflower  
Started February 2nd 2014**

Chapter One- The Science Fair

Sam was asleep at his desk, snoring softly and drooling slightly on the paperwork he had been ignoring while awake. Sam Jr. was munching on a half eaten doughnut his adoptive parent had left abandoned. The sun outside was nearing its zenith, the morning more than half over.

Sam snorted awake, a piece of paper stuck to the side of his face, as the door slammed open to admit Max. He blinked owlishly at his partner, still half asleep. "Huh, wazzat?"

"Good morning, Sam. Nice to see you at your best," said Max, grinning.

Sam, finally gaining his senses, sat up and brushed the paper from his face before pulling on his hat, which had fallen off while he was asleep. "Where did you go last night?" It wasn't a question Sam usually had to ask. Max generally didn't go anywhere without his partner, but this was the third time now in almost as many weeks. It was getting a little worrisome.

"You were asleep, and I was bored, so I went out and cracked some skulls." As if to prove his point, Max displayed his bloodied knuckles.

Sam had to admit that this sounded perfectly reasonable for Max, so he accepted it. "Okay. What do you want to do now, little buddy?"

"Hell if I know. Anything on the schedule?"

"Hmm…" Sam looked at the sheet of paper that had earlier been stuck to his face. "Oh yeah. Momma Bosco's got that science fair judging gig today, and she invited us to come."

Max made a face out the window at a passing stranger. "You mean that thing at the high school? Bleah, no!"

"We're between cases right now, so it's that or nothing."

Max wandered over to the closet to check on Leonard, still forgetting that in this timeline, they'd released him for Sybil's wedding, as he replied, "Then I'll take nothing." The phone began to ring, cutting off what Max was going to say next.

Chaos erupted.

Between shouts of, "I got it, I got it!" and, "No, I got it!" the two scrambled for the receiver, battling as always for who would answer.

Sam was closer than the lagomorph, so Max grabbed his friend by the back of his jacket, using this as a makeshift ladder as he scaled Sam's back only to then leap off his shoulders. Losing his balance, Sam toppled forward, but when Max hit the ground, he was now standing on the dog's tie. Sam took instant advantage of this, grabbing his tie and yanking it out from under Max's feet, sending his friend sprawling. He then grabbed Max by the foot and tossed the rabbit behind him as he picked himself up, made his way around the desk and grabbed the receiver.

"Yes, hel…lo?" Sam trailed off, growing very quiet.

Max, still flopped upside down against the far wall, asked, "Who is it, Sam? Is it the commissioner?"

Sam didn't reply. Max was sure he could hear someone talking on the other end of the line, but Sam said nothing. His expression didn't even change, remaining disturbingly blank. He stood there for several moments before slowly returning the phone to its cradle.

"Sam?" By now, Max had managed to pull himself back to his feet, and he was now regarding his friend with a worried expression.

Sam shook himself as if coming out of a daze, and fixed Max with a grin. "What?"

"Um… nothing?" Max raised an eyebrow. "So, who was that on the phone?"

"Oh that? No one was there. Must have been a crank call."

"Really? I thought I heard someone talking."

Sam shrugged. "I didn't hear anything, and I was the one holding the phone."

"But you got all weird and just stood there for like, ever!"

"Okay, I don't know if you're serious or if you're just trying to be a pest now, but there was no one on the line. It was dead."

"Alright, alright! Sheesh. So now what?"

"Why don't we go to that science fair anyway? It could be fun."

"Oh, god no, Sam! Don't you remember what happened at the last science fair we attended?"

"Oh yeah. I wonder if they ever did find that Flux Capacitor?"

Max paused for a moment. "On second thought, let's go!"

"To the DeSoto!" Sam exclaimed, lowering his hand to his desk to allow Sam Jr. to climb his way up to Sam's hat brim before following Max out the door.

X X X

"Hey boys! I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it." Doctor Momma Bosco greeted the two with a wave. She had swapped out the golden dress a while back in favour of something more her usual style, which she was sporting today. "Come on, I'll show you around."

Sam fell into step behind her as Max began to get into everything. He ate the first three potato batteries they came across. Momma Bosco consoled the upset students by reassuring them that their projects wouldn't have won, anyway.

Sam tried to steer clear of the inevitable papier-mâché volcano, still feeling a little chagrined about what happened the last time he'd played with the ingredients for one. Max, however, was fascinated by it, forcing Sam to drag his little buddy away from it as the students running the booth began adding their chemicals. It was just as well, since they were using sodium hydroxide and sulphuric acid in place of baking soda and vinegar.

"Geez, Max! You'll get hurt if you keep wandering off like that! That volcano is dangerous!"

"What's the worst that can happen, Sam? I accidentally kill Momma Bos-MMPH!"

Momma Bosco turned around with a quizzical look. "What was that, honey?"

"Nothing," replied Sam, glaring at Max, his hand still clamped over the lagomorph's mouth. Max just rolled his eyes, arms crossed until Sam released him and they continued the tour. At one point, Sam had to rescue Max from an interdimensional toilet, after the lagomorph got his head stuck in the bowl.

Continuing on, they paused before a young girl's project. The sign hanging overhead read, "Directional Bioradial Signature Locator." Max, being his usual tactful self, pointed at the device and asked, "What the hell is that thing?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "What part of Directional Bioradial Signature Locator don't you understand?"

"I think my little buddy was trying to ask what does it do?" asked Sam, playing peacemaker in an attempt to keep things from getting violent.

"Oh, that? Here, let me show you." She darted forward and pinched a piece of fur from Sam's hand, causing him to yelp and glare at her reproachfully. She ignored this and fed the fur into her machine before twisting the knobs. "Using your DNA, my machine can locate you as long as you're within range."

The Directional Bioradial Signature Locator began to beep as it picked up several signals. Depending on the direction it was pointed in, the speed of the beeping would change. The faster it went, the closer the source of the signal.

"This is really weird…" The student swung the device around once more, double checking her results. "According to this, there's a couple hundred or so of you towards Staten Island, and two of you here in this gym."

"Oh, that must be my clones," said Sam, as if having several hundred clones of oneself was an everyday occurrence. "But what would one of my clones be doing here?"

"Why don't we follow the tracker and find out?" asked Max. "Oh please, oh please? It'll be like a wonderful predator hunt!"

Sam looked askance at him. "You mean scavenger hunt, knucklehead!"

"Oh, so that's why they looked at me funny when I covered myself in mud!"

"Yes, actually, that would be a wonderful demonstration of your invention in action," added Momma Bosco, ignoring the byplay.

The student shrugged. "Sure, why not?" She picked up her machine and the four began to weave their way through the booths, following the gradually increasing rate of the beeps. It didn't take long to track down the clone, finding him mopping up a chemical spill in front of a display showing how different solvents affect cheeses.

The clone janitor finished cleaning the spill before he noticed the detective duo. He started, freezing for a moment before his expression darkened. He almost looked as though he wanted to attack, but instead, he simply growled as he packed up his equipment and stalked away.

The student, her demonstration completed, said goodbye and headed back to her booth. Sam turned to Momma Bosco and raised an eyebrow. "What was that all about? I thought my clones were all supposed to be all, 'toys!' and kind of dopey. He seemed pretty cognizant to me, and angry."  
"Don't say 'cognizant,' Sam," Max said.

"Oh, honey, did you think they were supposed to be like that?" replied the lady scientist, ignoring Max. "That must have been an effect of the control Charlie Ho-Tep had over them, though admittedly it takes a few minutes after coming out of the cooker before thoughts and memories begin to show. The mind control must have hindered their development afterwards, however."

"So you mean that body you're in would have become you anyway if you hadn't possessed it right away?" Sam asked, somewhat disturbed.

"Uh huh. Honestly, that's why the cloning pods work that way in the first place, and the reason for the delayed intelligence. I couldn't have possessed this body if there had already been someone else home, you see?"

"Clever. And kind of horrifying. I like it!" exclaimed Max.

"You would," replied Sam.

"Anyway boys, I have to get back to judging the projects, so why don't you go look around some more on your own?"

The three parted ways, Momma Bosco back to her duties and Sam and Max back to doing whatever it was that they tended to do. Thankfully, it wasn't long before the final announcement of the winners, especially after Max nearly burned the school down by "accidentally" knocking a Bunsen burner into a booth featuring toilet papers of the world. After prompting from the others, he apologized, and Sam managed to muffle him before he promised that next time, he wouldn't _almost_ burn down the school.

A small crowd gathered in front of the stage, made up mostly of staff and parents, though there were a few interested individuals from off the street. After the initial greetings, Momma Bosco announced the honourable mentions before moving on to third, then second place, all acknowledged by polite applause as the students in question came up to receive their awards. Then she announced the winner.

"For the best project this year," began Momma Bosco, "we have a device that can truly help humanity. Each year, hundreds of people go missing. The Directional Bioradial Signature Locator shows promise as a useful tool in assisting in locating those who were lost, but_ have_ left behind something nasty in their hairbrush. As such, it is my honour to award to Ms. Darla Gugenheek the apprenticeship with Bosco Tech Labs and all it has to offer, to be put forward into further development of her invention."

The applause this time was louder as Darla stepped onto the stage, a grin on her face that wasn't exactly smug, but yet still proclaimed that this was what she had been expecting all along. She shook hands with Momma Bosco as she accepted a large, cardboard cut-out of a key with the Bosco Tech Labs logo on it, symbolic of the actual key which she would receive later.

The two posed for photos for the local paper, at which point the crowd began to disperse, the event over. Sam and Max were beginning to get bored, again, and were turning to leave as well when Momma Bosco, finally breaking free of the photographer, ran to catch up with them.

"Would you mind giving me a ride home?" She smiled sheepishly. "I forgot to bring cash for the cab."

Before Sam could respond, Darla approached, her invention still clutched in her hands. "May I come, too? I'll only be a minute getting my stuff, and I'd really like to get to work on improving my Directional Bioradial Signature Locator."

"Can't think of a reason not to," replied Sam with a shrug.

"But you'll have to sit in the back," added Max, his shark-like grin vaguely threatening.

X X X

They reached Bosco Tech Labs in half the time it would have taken a cab, and only then if the traffic was light. Sam and Max disembarked from the vehicle before turning to wait for the girls.

Momma Bosco just shook her head as she hopped out. "I counted thirty-two fewer driving infractions than usual, Sam. You're slipping. And what did you do with the C.O.P.S.?"

"Oh, Max was beginning to find them really irritating, so he threw them in the trunk," replied Sam.

"Yeah, I wonder why they haven't shut up yet. I forgot to poke air holes and everything!" quipped Max as he pried Darla's fingers from the side of the car, where they had left imprints.

"The C.O.P.S. don't need to breathe, dough-head."

"They don't? Oh well. Live and learn." Once loose, Max grabbed the pale, frozen statue that had once been Darla by the back of the shirt and hauled her bodily out of the vehicle.

Momma Bosco tsked. "Poor girl isn't used to driving with someone like you, it seems."

Darla finally came around when Max dumped a bucket of ice water on her head. Momma Bosco clapped her on the shoulder once she'd calmed down and stopped shrieking like an angry baboon while chasing Max about the block. "You'll get used to it after the first couple trips."

"Who gave you your licence, you furry menace?" Darla demanded.

"Oh, that? It expired years ago. Never bothered to renew it, since no one's ever bothered to say anything about it," replied Sam.

"ANYWAY," interrupted Max, "I'm bored. What are we going to do now, Sam?"

"First, you're going to let me get my things from the back of your car," said Darla, and she pulled a backpack and a silver metal briefcase from the DeSoto's backseat. The briefcase contained her invention. "And now I don't care what you do."

Max's eyes lit up as they alighted on the suitcase. "Ooo, ooo, can I try your Biorobo scanner doohicky whatsit now? Sam got to have all the fun at the fair, now I wanna try!"

"No," said Darla simply.

"Please? I promise I won't break it!"

"He's going to keep begging until you let him, you know," Sam informed her.

"It's true, honey," added Momma Bosco.

Darla snorted and rolled her eyes. "Fine." She popped open the briefcase and removed her invention. "Now I need a sample of your DNA."

Max blew his nose and handed her the tissue. "Here."

"Ugh. Whatever, it'll work." The girl put the tissue into her device and switched it on. Immediately, it showed only the one result.

"Hey, it's better than what I was THINKING of giving you."

"Don't be gross, Max." said Sam.

Darla was getting ready to power down her device when the lagomorph made a sudden grab for the machine.

"Hey, don't touch that!" exclaimed Darla, as she swung her arm up in an attempt to get her invention out of Max's reach. As it pointed upwards, it began to beep. Everyone stopped, turning to the machine in Darla's hand.

"Um, why is it doing that?" asked Sam.

Darla brought her device down to where she could get a look at the data it was receiving as Sam held Max in place as the lagomorph strained to get at it.

"Huh," was all Darla would say as she swung the machine back towards the sky.

"Huh, what?"

Once she checked and rechecked her findings, Darla looked up at the group, pointing towards the sky. "It seems there's another Max, somewhere… up there."


	3. Tempers Flaring

Author's Note/Disclaimer: I don't own Sam and Max, they belong to Steve Purcell. I'm just borrowing them, please don't sue me.

Let the drama begin!

Also, thank you, CrazyCartoonChick236, for the nice reviews. I admit, chapter one was a little rushed. I'll try to pace myself better in the future. Also, Sybil's baby will be showing up in the next chapter, so you'll get to see then what I have in mind for it. Tee hee hee.

Chapter Two- Tempers Flaring

Max paced the lab as Momma Bosco and Darla busied themselves with experiments. Sam had taken the discovery rather poorly, taking off in the DeSoto on his own shortly afterwards. His only explanation was that he needed to clear his head, to really think about what this could mean. He had been gone for almost two hours now.

Momma Bosco kept glancing over at Max, concerned about the little guy. There had been a noticeable rift between both Sam and Max since the Elder God incident, and the situation now was only serving to make it even more painfully obvious.

Max continued pacing, unaware of Momma Bosco's surveillance. He wasn't really sure how he felt. Was he angry? Was he sad? Was he just gassy?

He still faintly remembered when his future self, and with him, future Sam, had pulled him and his own Sam from the original timeline. The two pairs didn't get along then; he wasn't really sure why he thought it would work any better this time around. He hadn't even known he would be replacing himself, and yet he'd come anyway. He just didn't know what to do with himself without Sam.

"Argh!" Max punched the wall, his eyes stinging with tears of frustration. Momma Bosco was about to get up and try to comfort the lagomorph when someone came in the front door.

Sam's plodded listlessly as he made his way to the elevator, riding it down to join the others. Max stood motionless, watching him, but was still too upset to want to rejoin him. He wanted to hug and bite Sam at the same time, but for totally different reasons than usual.

The lab was silent, all eyes fixed on Sam as the three waited for him to speak. For several moments, he just stood there, saying nothing.

"Sam…" Momma Bosco trailed off. She didn't really know what to say.

"Darla," Sam began, but the girl cut him off.

"Just call me 'Geek'. Everyone else does," she replied.

"Um, okay. Anyway, I just wanted to know, does your machine… Does it track only living things?"

"There's a switch, actually. Right now it's set for…" The Geek trailed off as she checked her invention. "Um… living. I'm pretty sure it hasn't been changed since before I tested it with Max's DNA."

Sam said nothing, mulling this over. Momma Bosco spoke up in his place. "What kind of range did you say this device has again?"

"It's only supposed to have a range of ten miles, but if what you've told me is true, it either must be a lot more powerful than I thought, or Max is somehow a lot closer. Well, or his signal is being boosted somehow, but that's ridiculous. I've been working on refining that calculation."

"Still, it seems Max has somehow survived." Momma Bosco looked to the big dog, trying to gauge his reactions, but she wasn't sure what he was thinking. "Sam? Honey? Are you going to pursue this?"

Sam heaved a sigh before looking up to face Momma Bosco, eyes hard. "Of course. My little buddy is out there, somewhere, and he probably needs my help. I have to."

"Hey, what about me?" snapped Max. "You're just going to toss me aside like a mouldering loaf of bread? Don't need me anymore now that you've got the original model back?"

"Of course not, Max. But I can't just leave Max, either." Sam paused, his brows furrowing as he grew confused. "But what am I going to do with two of you?"

"Why do you need him when you've got me, anyway? You were perfectly happy before." Even as he said it, Max knew this wasn't true. Sure, it had worked at first, but something was wrong. He and Sam no longer seemed to mesh quite the way they used to, and it was throwing off their whole dynamic.

Even Sam had noticed it. Yet, the lagomorph's anger surprised him. Sam couldn't understand why he was so upset, not realising that this was the whole problem. "You know I can't just leave him, Max."

"Yeah." Max's voice and demeanour became suddenly subdued. "Yeah, I do."

Sam said nothing for several minutes, just watching Max, the lagomorph staring back. He had no idea how to deal with this situation, and it was driving him crazy. He didn't like feeling so out of sorts with his best friend, not one bit. In the end, he tried to ignore it for the time being. Maybe something would come to him later. Instead, he turned to Darla. Max's expression darkened in response, and he stomped off.

"How long do you think it'll take to figure out exactly where Max is?"

The Geek looked up from where she had been recalibrating the Directional Bioradial Signature Locator. "I think I've almost got it now," she replied. "Gimmie a sec…" The girl did something before twisting a knob and pointing the device in the air. Once it began to beep, she looked at the readout. "I think that's got it. Annnd… according to this, Max is roughly 100,000 miles away, give or take 10,000 miles or so." Darla looked up from the screen, facing Sam. "He's somewhere in space, halfway between the Earth and the moon."

"I can breathe in space? Cool!" exclaimed Max from where he'd been listening on the other side of the room.

Sam couldn't help but smile. Max was already back to acting like his usual self. Perhaps he'd already forgotten everything from earlier. "I don't think it works that way, little buddy. At least, not without a paper bag."

Max never got a chance to reply. Someone else entered the lab, drawing everyone's attention. As far as Sam and Max were concerned, everyone who should have been there was, so neither of them knew who was coming.

Another Sam, obviously one of the clones, was making his way to the elevator, some weird machinery clutched in his hands. He seemed a little confused when he noticed the gathered group as he came down to join them. Max immediately went for his gun, but Momma Bosco swatted it out of his paws, waggling her finger at him.

"Stop that, Max. He's my lab assistant."

"Assistant? I thought he was an escaped experiment. That would have been awkward!"

"Well, there's certainly some experimenting I wouldn't mind trying," Momma Bosco muttered before catching herself. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I would appreciate it if you didn't shoot him."

The clone, reaching the bottom floor, set down his equipment and scratched at the back of his neck nervously. He was wearing a dark grey t-shirt with white text reading, "Bow ties are cool," and a pair of simple blue jeans. A set of oval, silver rimed glasses sat on his snout. In Sam's opinion, the whole outfit really didn't suit him.

"Hey, there." Sam offered his hand to the clone. "I apologize for Max. You understand how high strung he can be."

The clone accepted the offered handshake. "Yeah, I know." He chuckled uncertainly.

"So, what do we call you?"

"Um…" The clone shrugged, face going red from embarrassment. "I don't really have a name. My ID is DN-13-S, if that helps?"

"What, Momma Bosco doesn't call you Sam? Or Sweetcakes? Or Hotstuff?" Max turned to Momma Bosco, his expression incredulous, ignoring the clone as his face went even redder. It was Momma Bosco's turn to shrug.

"I've always just called him Clone," she replied.

"I've never really felt right going by Sam, anyway," added the clone. "I am Sam, but at the same time, I'm not. Not really. I'm more what Sam could have been."

Max felt his eyes crossing. "Okay, I'm officially confused now. What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"What it means," said Momma Bosco, "is that, based on the memories he inherited from Sam, he decided to do something different. Sam's a detective, right? But Clone here tells me that when he was younger, he was good with technology, and that interested him more than being a detective."

"Yeah, Sam was a huge nerd," giggled Max.

Sam frowned at him. "Shut up, I was not," he protested.

"Sam, you built an arcade game. You were a nerd, end of story."

Sam sighed as his cockroach son spoke up. "Papa, what's a nerd?"

"Candy. Nothing. Never you mind," Sam snapped, perhaps a bit more testily than he should have.

The conversation just sort of came to an awkward end there, no one sure how to continue. The clone picked up his equipment and headed off to the corner of the lab where Harry's mole tunnels used to be. Since Momma Bosco had dismantled the cloning facility after the brouhaha with the clones running amok, she no longer needed them and had had them filled in. The free space was now being used by the clone, but what he was building, Sam had no idea. It was too early to tell, not that it really mattered anyway.

All too aware of the eyes following him, the clone glanced back, his expression anxious. Then he suddenly snapped his fingers, thinking of something. "By the way, could you… um… not do that body snatching thing on me again? It's really… er… distressing." He shuddered at the memory.

Max took this opportunity to turn to Sam, pointing at him and opening his mouth to let out a horrible screeching noise.

"Cut that out, chowder head," Sam growled before addressing the clone. "Yeah, sorry about that. The Astral Projector is gone now, anyway."

The clone nodded before turning back to what he had been doing. Sam left him to it, addressing Momma Bosco and the Geek in an attempt to get back to business. "I've gotta get to space to get Max somehow."

"Oh, I've got some leftover rocket boosters you can use," offered Momma Bosco. "You just need something to use 'em on."

"Why don't we just take the DeSoto like always?" Max asked, confused. "It's always worked before."

"Yeah, but that kind of visual gag doesn't really translate well in a text-based story," replied Sam.

"Yeah, but the fact that we may be eaten by a grue doesn't seem relevant."

"However, I think we could ask Sybil to refurbish the DeSoto into a spaceship for us."

Max perked up at the mention of Sybil's name. "Ooo, yes, let's!"

X X X

"You know, I've been wondering why we don't see more of Sybil these days."

"You know she's been busy taking care of her baby, Max."

"Who's the baby daddy, anyway? You?"

"W-what?!" Sam spluttered, stopping in his tracks to stare at Max, painfully aware of the way he was flushing at the suggestion. "Of course not!"

Max raised an eyebrow. "Then who is?"

Sam was about to inform Max of his continuing chuckleheadedness when he realised that it was entirely possible Max had no idea. He didn't know exactly what the lagomorph and Sybil had discussed in the hospital, and it was possible he hadn't seen the baby. This Max might not have even met the giant stone head of Abraham Lincoln, given that he had been drawn out of the original timeline before that even happened. Sam was the only one who had even visited Sybil since his release from the hospital little under a month ago.

Sam decided then and there that alternate timelines gave him a headache. "You know what? You'll find out when we get there."

Max found out sooner than expected. The ground began to shake beneath their feet, as if in time with giant, heavy footsteps. A moment later, a giant stone stovepipe top hat came into view, followed shortly by the statue of Abraham Lincoln himself.

"It was supposed to be a complement, Sybil! Those fertility goddess statues are beautiful!" His tone was petulant as he stomped his foot, back turned to the duo as he talked to someone they couldn't see yet. Walking on further, Sybil came into view, standing on her doorstep and flinging refuse at her husband.

"Complement, my ass! If you think I'm so ugly, why did you marry me?"

"Because-! I-! Oh, screw this!" Abe turned and stomped off. "Stupid woman," he grumbled, nearly stepping on Max as he passed by, not really noticing the freelance police.

Max brushed himself off as he picked himself up from the ground where he'd jumped to avoid a squishy death. "Wait, that asshole is Sybil's husband? Sheesh, talk about bad taste."

Sam didn't reply, but the livid expression on his face spoke volumes. This wasn't the first time he'd come across a scene such as this, and it still upset him. If there was one thing he knew, it was that that was no way to treat a lady.

Sybil stopped hurling garbage and insults when she finally noticed Sam and Max approaching. She wiped hastily at her eyes in an attempt to appear more composed. It didn't really help.

"What was that all about?" asked Max. Tact had never been his forte.

"Max!" Sam glared at his little buddy before turning back to Sybil. "We couldn't help overhearing. Are you okay?"

Sybil sniffled, wiped once more at her eyes. "I'll be okay, but thanks for asking."

"You sure? You don't look okay," said Max, with a strange inflection to his tone Sam rarely ever heard from his little buddy. The lagomorph was serious.

It was clear that Sybil was surprised by this as well. She looked down at Max in silence for a moment before letting out a small chuckle. "It'll be alright, but thank you for your concern, Max."

"Maybe you could take your mind off things by helping us out with a project! It'll help!"

Sybil couldn't help laughing now. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't think I'm up to that kind of thing right now."

"Understandable. If you change your mind, you can find us at Bosco Tech Labs. …are you sure you're okay?" asked Sam.

"I'll be fine, Sam. Go on with whatever whacked-out mission you're on and don't worry about me, okay?"

Sam didn't seem entirely convinced, but he didn't argue. "Okay. See you later, then."

"Bye, guys." Sybil waved as the two headed off, and then went back inside herself.

Max turned to Sam. "Well, that was a bust. Now what?"

"I don't really know, little buddy." Sam seemed distracted, but Max ignored it as they made their way back to Bosco Tech Labs in defeat.


	4. Fly Me Nearly To The Moon

Author's Note/Disclaimer: Same old. Don't own it, blah blah blah.

So, chapter three. I think I forgot to have something happen in this chapter. Bleah. But at least I'm pretty much done with the set up so stuff can actually start happening now. Yay? Also, to be completely honest, I really didn't want to create Sybil's baby, but I couldn't just pretend it didn't exist, so I turned it into a big ol' joke. Go me! (Headdesk)

CrazyCartoonChick236: Momma Bosco didn't so much hire her clone as rescue him and let him stay with her and do all the science he wanted. And janitor clone boy, well, let's just say he didn't choose his job. The rest of the clones'll be showing up in the next chapter. Yay!

**Chapter Three- Fly Me Nearly to the Moon**

It was getting late when Sam and Max returned to the lab. Darla had been picked up by her parents, promising to return the next morning to continue helping out. Momma Bosco was just closing down for the night when they arrived.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

Sam shook his head. "Let's just say, Sybil was having a bad day. We'll try again later. Maybe she'll be more receptive then."

"In the morning, dear. It's getting late."

"Really?" replied Max. "I thought it was dark outside because a giant space reptile ate the sun."

"Don't be stupid, Max," said Sam with a grin. "It wasn't a reptile, it was an amphibian."

"Oh, right."

Momma Bosco just smiled and shook her head. "I'll see you boys tomorrow."

X X X

When Sam and Max returned the next day, they found two new arrivals in the lab. Sam had sort of expected Superball to show up once he got wind of what was going on. Bluster Blaster, on the other hand, was a surprise. Superball seemed absorbed in a discussion with Momma Bosco, so he and Max wandered over to where the clone was fiddling with the arcade game.

"Hey, BB! How's my favourite psychotic game machine?" asked Max.

"NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" screamed the ex-C.O.P.S. member, startling the clone, who hadn't noticed the two approaching. He jumped, smacking his head on the casing.

"Ow…" he grumbled, extracting himself from Bluster Blaster's inner workings. "Can I help you with something?"

"Nah, we just came over to say hi. Hello," said Sam.

"What are you doing with Bluster Blaster, anyway? I do hope you're not screwing with his sparkling personality," added Max.

"Nope, just doing some routine maintenance." The clone ducked back inside Bluster Blaster's casing. "Just need to attach this wire… and done. How's that?"

"YOU HAVE FAILED TO FAIL!" was the response.

The clone blinked. "Um…okay."

Max smiled and patted the machine. "He still makes me proud."

"Oh hush," said Sam.

It was then that Superball wrapped up his conversation with Momma Bosco. The ex-secret service agent now President of the United States walked casually over to greet the Freelance Police. "Hello, sirs."

"Hello, Superball. What brings you here today?" Sam suspected he already knew the answer, but it was polite to ask, anyway.

"Doctor Momma Bosco tells me you've found the President."

"Well, not exactly found. More like, we know sort of where he is and we're going to try to find him. Why?"

"And why is he president when I should be?" interrupted Max. Superball turned to regard the lagomorph, his face its usual mask.

"Have you been sworn in, sir?"

"No, but what difference does that make? I'm still Max."

Superball shook his head. "I'm afraid that isn't enough. It's complicated, sir."

"Complicated, my fuzzy butt. You just don't want to give up the position now that you have it."

"Max!" Sam exclaimed.

"What, Sam? This chump won't let me be president in my own place because it's 'complicated'? Swear me in if that's all it takes!"

"Believe me, sir. I don't want this job any more than you want a poke in the eye," interjected Superball.

"Who says I don't?"

Superball ignored him. "You still need to be elected."

"I was!"

"No, your future self was. You never were."

"Whatever, never mind. I don't need to be the stupid president, anyway." Max crossed his arms indignantly.

"Thank you for seeing reason, sir."

Max snorted and wandered off to cause trouble elsewhere as Sam continued the conversation. "Why can't he be president for real?"

Superball's expression never changed. "I already told you, sir. This Max hasn't been duly elected."

"Fine. So why is it such a big deal to you that I bring my little pal back, anyway? You don't want the job anymore, or something?"

"Not really, no. It eats up all my spare time. I'm unable to fulfil my other obligations."

"Like what?"

"I'm afraid that's classified, sir."

Sam looked askance at him. "Really."

"Not really, no, sir. I'm just shy about my personal life."

"Fair enough."

It was at this point that the two were distracted by a sharp cry. The clone was shooing Max away from his creation, panic clear in his expression. "Don't touch that! You'll break it!"

Max scowled. "Sheesh, alright! Don't go all Ol' Yeller on us."

The thing the clone was building was beginning to resemble something Sam recognized, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was a tower of some sort that much was clear.

Max rejoined Sam in a state of huffiness. Sam just smiled at him, which to his surprise, Max responded by glaring back. The smile slipped from his face.

"Hey, everyone!"

Sam and Max looked up. Darla had arrived, waving as she walked to the elevator. Sam saw her eyes light upon Superball, to whom she reacted with a barely noticeable jolt, as though she hadn't expected to see him, but didn't want anyone to know that. Just as quickly, she looked away, and Sam got the distinct impression that he wasn't supposed to have noticed. He wasn't really sure what was going on, though, and chose to stay silent.

Stopping short of her destination, the Geek raised a hand to her chin. "Say, I've got a heavy bag out front I could use some help carrying."

Sam was about to reply, but Superball beat him to it. "I can help, ma'am."

"Oh, could you? That would be great, thanks!"

Sam raised an eyebrow as Superball joined the Geek to head outside. Something was definitely fishy, but he had no idea what it could be.

X X X

"You didn't tell me they were basically children!"

As soon as the two were outside, Darla wheeled about and began to chew out Superball. Even this didn't rattle his outward cool, though. "You never asked."

"I so very much did! That's what a briefing is, isn't it? An overview of the mission at hand and the people involved? I have no idea what I'm doing anymore because these two doofuses are such wildcards!"

"Are you saying you can't handle the mission?"

The Geek fixed him with a death glare, begging him to try her. "Oh, I can handle it, alright. You're lucky you didn't send in Bernard. These two would have him in tears by now."

Superball actually chuckled. "You're right. That's why I chose you. I trust you can handle this, 'wildcards' or not."

Darla let out a sigh, all the fight draining out of her. It really wasn't Superball's fault she hadn't thought to ask questions. She really should have, given the information that had been provided on Sam and Max. "Thank you for the support, sir. It just would have been nice to know ahead of time exactly what I would be dealing with." She turned to the large trunk, left for her when her co-workers had dropped her off. "Now, if you could help me with this."

X X X

Darla and Superball returned in time to catch the end of the conversation Sam was having with Momma Bosco. It was obvious how eager Sam was to get on with the plan. Sybil saying no had been a big let down for him.

"So there's no way you could turn the DeSoto into a spaceship?" he was asking.

"Sorry, honey. I build computers and other like devices, not vehicles," she replied.

"Damn. What a stupid thing to get held up on. I'm so close to getting my little buddy back."

"Hey!" Max stomped his foot angrily, drawing everyone's attention. "I'm right here, dammit!"

Sam blinked in surprise, realising what he'd just said. "But Max –"

"Don't you 'but Max' me! This whole time, you've been treating me like I don't matter! Like… like the other Max is somehow better than me! Well, if that's what you really want, then you can have him!" With that, the lagomorph spun around and stalked from the lab, pushing past Darla and Superball on the way to the exit. As he reached the door, it swung open to admit Sybil. She was carrying her baby in one arm, and a baby bag in the other. She looked down as Max shoved by.

"Hello, Max," she said by way of greeting, but he only grumbled in response, heading out the door. She frowned. "Rude."

"Sybil!" Sam perked up noticeably at her arrival, all thoughts of Max and his outburst gone. "I thought you weren't coming!"

"Well, I thought it over, and realised that I don't really have much else to be doing. Abe's being a jerk, again, anyway. It's better that I have something to do than wallowing in self pity at home."

The baby started to squall, and everyone but Sybil covered their ears. The clone turned to find out what the source of the noise was, and freaked out when he spotted her.

"Oh god! Nobody blink! Blink and you're dead!"

Sybil attempted to console her child as the clone pointed at her. "How can you carry that thing around without it sending you back in time?"

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Sybil demanded. "This is my daughter, not… whatever you seem to think she is!"

The clone cocked his head, taking a closer look at Sybil's child. It was true that her skin was rough and resembled stone, and she had little wings poking through on her back, but he could see now that she was moving around quiet freely, even while being observed. His mistake realised, he backpedalled lamely. "Oh, sorry… bad joke."

Sam casually strolled over to his clone and smacked him upside the head. "You know better than that."

The clone flinched before slinking back to his project to hide in shame. Sam almost felt bad about it, but he was distracted as Sybil joined him.

"So, what was it you wanted help with, anyway?" she asked. Her baby was squirming about in her arms, having calmed down to a state of relative quiet.

"Well, the thing is, we think Max survived, but he's out in space and we need to convert the DeSoto into a spaceship so we can go get him. …or at least to find out why something out there is reading as Max."

"Pfft, that's easy. You know, I was going to be an astronaut once, but the program was shut down before I ever got into space. It shouldn't be difficult at all to convert the car, and I've got some leftover spacesuits in storage. I'm sure those will come in handy."

Sam couldn't keep the grin from his face. Things were finally starting to come together. "Great, that'll be a big help. Thank you, Sybil."

"No problem. I'll be coming along, too, though. Spaceship controls are complicated, but I already know how to use them. It'll save a lot of time if I don't have to teach you how to use them."

"But what about your baby?"

"Oh, right. Abby can't come into space, and Abe's taken off to who knows where… not that I'd want to leave her with him, anyway." Sybil cast about the lab, her eyes lighting on Superball. She glanced at Sam. "You and Max seemed to be pretty good friends with him, and he seemed like an okay guy when I was interviewing him. Think he'd be willing to watch her?"

"I dunno. Maybe Momma Bosco would be a better idea?"

"Oh no, honey!" Momma Bosco waved her finger at the two. "I did my time raising kids."

"Superball it is, then."

Sam Jr. came crawling down Sam's arm, crossing over to Sybil and from there climbing onto Abigail's hand. Abby giggled as the cockroach said, "Hello."

Twisting her hands around, Sam Jr. crawled onto her palm, tickling her. She giggled again and clapped her hands together. Both Sam and Sybil were taken off guard, neither one even managing an exclamation of shock before Abby pulled her hands apart. Sam Jr. was still in her palm, none the worse for wear. "I'm okay, papa!" Both parents let out a sigh of relief.

The display served to remind Sam he couldn't take his own kid into space anymore than Sybil could. It also showed him just how tough his adopted cockroach son really was. He'd be a great playmate for Abigail, since she couldn't really hurt him.

"Well, I can't take Sam Jr. either. Let's go ask Superball, then," said Sam. He collected his son and followed Sybil over to Superball. The ex-secret service agent was helping the Geek move her large crate of stuff to a better, more permanent location. They waited until he was finished before broaching the subject.

"Hey, Superball, do you think you could do Sybil and I a huge favour?"

"What is it, sir?" Superball was all business.

"Do you think you could babysit for us?"

For a moment, Sam was worried that Superball was going to refuse, as the man just stared at him in silence for several moments. It was a surprise when he actually cracked a smile. "Gee, sir. I'd love to. Children have always seemed to love me."

"Thanks, Supes."

Sybil handed Abby and the baby bag off to Superball. He took the baby girl and smiled at her. Abby responded by blowing bubbles back which was, according to Sybil, a sure sign that she would be just fine staying with him for an extended period of time.

Even though she was fully aware of the fact that Superball had raised a child of his own, Sybil still went into painstaking detail about how to care for Abby, not stopping until he assured her everything would be just fine. Sam, meanwhile, simply allowed Sam Jr. to climb from his hand onto the ex-secret service agent's shoulder, telling him to be good for Uncle Superball.

Once that was taken care of, Sam and Sybil let Momma Bosco know they were ready to convert the DeSoto. She, with the help of the clone, was busy pulling the rocket boosters out of storage and checking to make sure they were still in working order. For some reason, Bluster Blaster was bundled with them.

Sam raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the arcade game, and the clone answered the unspoken question with a shrug. "He said he wanted to help, so…"

"THIS WILL BE TOTALLY AWESOME!" agreed Bluster Blaster.

"Eh, whatever. Let's get these rockets hooked up," said Sybil. With that, they took them outside and got to work on the DeSoto.

X X X

Sam was shocked at the speed with which Sybil completed the job. He'd expected the work to take at least a couple days, but with his help, the DeSoto was now ready for space flight, and it was only late afternoon.

Sybil stood back to admire her work. Hands on her hips, she smiled. "One of my better jobs, if I say so myself."

Sam patted the side of the DeSoto turned spaceship affectionately. "It's perfect. What do you think, Max?"

The lack of a response surprised Sam, and he, along with the others, began to look around. There was no sign of the lagomorph.

"Max?"


	5. It's A Clone's Life

Author's Note/Disclaimer: I don't own Sam and Max, blah blah blah, yak yak yak...

So yeah, here's chapter four. Things actually happen in this one!

**Chapter Four- It's a Clone's Life**

"Max! Where are you? Get your fuzzy butt over here, it's time to go!"

Max failed to appear, despite the call. Sam straightened up, putting his hands in his pockets. "Now where did he get off to?"

"He was heading out the door when I arrived," offered Sybil. "I didn't think to ask him where he was going. I just assumed you knew."

Sam shook his head, a feeling of guilt washing over him as he recalled what had happened before Max took off. "I kinda upset him. I don't really know where he goes when he's on his own, but I'll check the office."

"You do that, and we'll look around the neighbourhood, okay sweetie?" replied Momma Bosco.

Sam nodded in reply before beginning the rather long trek back to the office on foot. As he walked, he mulled over what he had said and done in the last couple days, coming to the realisation that a lot of it was rather thoughtless. This Max had lost his Sam, and had come to him in the hopes of filling the void. He'd even arrived just in time to save Sam from himself, and Sam had returned the favour by treating him like a replacement. Like some placeholder he could throw away if or when he could get the original back. He heaved a sigh. He was going to have a lot to say, and a lot to answer for, once he found Max.

So it was with trepidation that Sam entered the building, open now that the construction was complete, where he shared an office with the lagomorph. His mood lifted somewhat to hear Flint Paper doing what he did best – pummelling cheap hoods insensible – as he passed his neighbour's door. It came crashing back down once he reached his own.

Reaching for the doorknob, he took a breath and entered. "Max?"

The office was silent. There was no sign that Max had been there. In fact, the office looked abandoned. There was dust settled over everything, even more than the usual layer since the duo hadn't been allowed in for weeks. It no longer felt homey to him, simply forlorn. Not even Jimmy and his family had returned.

With another sigh, Sam turned and left, closing the door behind him. As he passed Flint's door once more, he debated knocking, perhaps asking for help from his fellow detective. He changed his mind and continued onwards. This was his problem, and he would solve it on his own.

Hitting the pavement outside, he began to just walk, unsure of what to do now. He could return to Bosco Tech Labs in failure, or he could try checking other places Max might be. Problem was, he couldn't think of anywhere Max would go without him.

Sam paused, looking up from the ground and glanced around. He thought he'd heard footsteps. "Max? Is that you?" Only the wind answered. Sam shook his head and kept walking.

With Sam's back turned, the assailant slid from the shadows of a nearby alleyway and moved to strike. It only took a second; one quick, carefully calculated blow to the head, and Sam slipped silently to the pavement, unconscious.

X X X

The first thing Sam did when he regained consciousness was groan. His head ached. It felt like Max had decided to use his skull as a drum, which, he recalled, had actually happened once or twice, so he knew that for certain.

Once the headache had backed off enough for him to really concentrate, he realised he was bound to a chair in what seemed to be a small, dimly lit room. He couldn't help but smile. It was a worthy cliché.

When his eyes finally focused, he realized that there was someone else in the room with him. In fact, whoever it was was shoving their nose into his face, while wearing a huge, ridiculous grin. It took Sam a moment to register that the face was his own.

The clone continued to study Sam, invading his personal space, making him somewhat uncomfortable. There wasn't much he could do about it at this point, though, so instead he opted to study the clone back. He was wearing a fancy black and white suit, with tails and everything, which surprised Sam. He wasn't against wearing such a classy outfit, and had done so on several occasions, but it wouldn't be something he chose to wear regularly. The clone, however, had gone all out, complete with a monocle, top hat and walking stick. He even had spats pulled on over his otherwise bare feet.

The silence was broken as a door opened, admitting bright light and another clone. This one was sporting a more mundane outfit, a dark green t-shirt and brownish-grey cargo pants. His clone ID tags dangled from their chain around his neck. It gave him an almost military look.

"Sam, get away from that. You don't know where it's been," the newcomer snapped as he closed the door, the dimness closing in once more.

"I say! Toys!" crowed the sharp dressed clone, and he obediently backed away. Sam arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"So, you're awake. I was wondering when you'd come to. You were out all night and most of the morning." The militaristic clone crossed his arms behind his back and began to pace as the other wandered about, getting into things. He reminded Sam more of Max than himself, in a way.

His attention was drawn back to the pacing clone as he spoke again. "I suppose you're wondering why we brought you here."

"I was wondering why you'd kidnapped me, yes," replied Sam, his tone icy.

The clone stopped pacing and snorted. "Would you have come here otherwise?"

"Come where? I don't even know where here is!"

"Oh, right. You were napping on the way in. Welcome to the Staten Island Clone Reserve."

Sam had figured that was the case, but now it was confirmed. The clone was right, though: he wouldn't have come if not coerced. He didn't want to be here, and began planning his means of escape. His mind racing, he tested the bonds around his wrists and cursed himself for being so good at tying knots. He decided it would be best to keep the clone talking while he tried to find a way to break free. "So, what did you want me here for, anyway?"

"Honestly? It was the only way I could think of to get your attention. Sam, someone's been murdering us." The clone paused to grimace, as if what he was about to say next was distasteful. "We were hoping you would help."

Sam stopped squirming around, looking up in surprise. "What?"

"Three of us have been killed already in the past couple weeks. Same M.O. All of them shot. Our handlers don't care, the less of us there are, the less work they have to do."

Sam admittedly hadn't really given the clones a second thought after they were all bundled up and trundled off to the reserve. He wanted nothing to do with them. He had a hard enough time dealing with his own problems. Nonetheless, he never wanted anything like this to happen to them, and now that he knew about it, he couldn't just ignore it. He had a duty to the law, sort of. But at the same time…

"What do you expect me to do?"

The clone snarled. "Your best friend is the President. You figure it out, genius."

Sam frowned. He already didn't like this clone's attitude. There was something familiar about it, though, and it tickled at the back of Sam's memory. For the moment, he ignored it to retort. "For your information, that Max is dead." He paused. "Or at least we thought he was. Whatever, doesn't matter, either way, Superball is President now. I can put in a word with him, but I don't see what good that's going to do. Especially if you're going to keep me tied up here."

The clone grumbled, but he could see the truth in Sam's words. As he untied the ropes holding Sam in his chair, the detective got a whiff of industrial cleaners and suddenly realised where he had met this clone before. "Wait, I know you! You're the janitor from the Geek's high school!"

The clone snorted again and gave Sam's bindings a tug that pulled them tighter instead of loose, which Sam suspected was on purpose. He tried not to cry out at the sudden pinch, and the clone continued to untie him. "It was the job I was assigned; it doesn't define me."

"Assigned?" Sam stood from the chair now that he was free and rubbed at his sore wrists.

"You really don't know shit about this place, do you? Couldn't be bothered to even see if they were taking proper care of us?"

Sam was getting angry now. "Look, I know you're clones of me, but it was not my decision to have you made. In fact, I find this whole situation extremely creepy and violating! I never wanted anything to do with it, and I still don't. Just because you were made from me doesn't mean I'm responsible for you in any way!"

The clone almost struck Sam then, but the other, who had been wandering around in the background until this moment, grabbed his friend by the arm to stay his hand. He fixed the other clone with a sad-eyed puppy stare. "I say…?"

The angry clone looked at his friend for a moment before letting his eyes drop. "You're right, Sam…"

The classy clone nodded happily and let go of his friend's arm. "Toys!"

"What's wrong with him?" Sam could see the spark of fury burning in the angry clone's eyes, but he didn't back down. Instead, he added another question. "And why do you call him Sam?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but he was hurt during Max's rampage, and he's been like that ever since. And I call him Sam because that's his name. He's Sam, I'm Sam, we're all Sam here." The clone flung his arms open to encompass the whole reserve.

"But… you can't all be Sam. I'm Sam." It came out rather lamely. Sam didn't mean it as an insult or an attempt to further upset the clone; he was just literally weirded out by the idea of a few hundred clones of himself also going by his name. The clone took it as an insult anyway.

"Tough. Get used to it, because that's the way it is."

Sam growled before palming his face in exasperation. "Okay, look, forget that. You want help to find this killer, right? I can't help you with that right now, I've got to find my little buddy. However, I can introduce you to Flint Paper. I'm sure he'll help."

The clone thought about it for a moment as the other approached Sam and began to examine him minutely, making Sam rather uncomfortable. The green shirted clone smirked, and Sam glared at him.

"Okay, that's doable," the clone replied after he figured Sam had suffered enough from the unwanted attention. "Let's go." He opened the door leading outside, and his unhinged friend wandered out leaving Sam to follow before he, too, left the small building.

It was Sam's first good look at the clone reserve. He didn't really know what he'd been expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. It was more of a compound than a living space, mostly wide open fields with what looked like about five acres of woodland off to one side. There were few buildings, and nothing that appeared to be housing of any kind. He found himself wondering where the clones slept at night.

At first, it appeared as if clones were milling around at random, but then Sam began to notice more details. Quite a few of the clones were in fact just randomly hanging about, looking for all the world like they didn't know what to be doing, many of them still wearing nothing but the golden shorts they were cloned with. Still, there were several groups where the clones were wearing more appropriate clothing and chatting animatedly. In one case, a group was playing games.

Sam did a double take at the gaming clones. One of the clones was about half the size of the rest. The clone in the green shirt with Sam noticed what he was looking at and frowned.

"He goes by the name Paper. He came from a damaged pod. Seems some jerk went and shot up several of them." The clone noted with a smug smile that as he spoke, Sam's expression changed from one of surprise to guilt. "There's not much to do around here, as you can see.

"To answer one of your earlier questions, those of us who can work have been assigned jobs if they could find anyone willing to employ us. At least it's something to do, even if it is demeaning. Sam here only has his fancy suit because I and a few others pooled enough to buy it for him."

"I say. Toys!" The clone in formal wear struck a pose to better show off his suit, obviously proud of it.

"You don't seem to like it here very much." Sam said it more because he felt he ought to say something rather than because he had something to say.

"Not really, no. We aren't exactly prisoners; we can come and go as we please, but only as long as we have our ID tags. Even if we could leave, where would we go? You know as well as I that we don't exactly fit in out there. Honestly, I think a lot of us are afraid to even try."

"I didn't realize things were so bad here."

The clone nodded. "Now you're getting it." He pointed to one of the few larger buildings. "That's our sleeping quarters. There are 252 of us, and most of us end up sleeping like that." He pointed to a pile of clones who had curled up with one another in a big jumble for a midday nap in the sun.

"252? I thought Charlie Ho-Tep said there were at least 1000 of you."

The clone glared balefully at Sam. "You were at the Statue of Liberty. You know what happened. Not to mention the incident at Stinky's. Some of the others are still terrified of Max and the old man after that."

Sam fell silent, following slowly being the two clones as they wandered through the reserve. A lot of the clones had noticed him now, though he wasn't sure how they knew he wasn't just another of their kind. Several conversations petered out as the clones turned to stare. The attention was making Sam uncomfortable.

Once he'd had enough of watching Sam squirm again, the green shirted clone decided he would explain. "You're not connected. They can't sense your presence. Plus, no one else here dresses like you."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Charlie Ho-Tep's control over us had an odd side effect. It left us connected. We can't use it to track one another or anything useful like that, but we can pick up on each other's feelings. It's no good at long range unless the feelings are really strong. Do you have any idea what it's like to feel one of your brothers being murdered?" The clone grew angrier towards the end of his sentence, and took a beat to calm down before continuing. "And no one dresses like you because there's no one left here who's just like you."

"There were others like me?"

"Yeah, but you won't like what happened to them." The clone paused to check Sam's reaction and continued once he saw the frown. "They were too much like you; they couldn't survive without Max. Not that the rest of us don't feel that emptiness left by the lack of our little buddy, but we can deal with it. Those few, they couldn't handle it. One of them disappeared, but the others… they killed themselves, Sam."

Sam staggered back, floored by the news. He knew it wasn't a lie, though. He could still remember that brief period after Max's sacrifice, before the Time Elevator arrived, and the slow walk to the harbour, when he felt too empty to care about the things going on around him. That urge, while he was looking out over the water, to just give up and jump over the railing, adopted son be damned. And the worst part, if Max hadn't shown up, the knowledge that he would have done it. The realization of just how much he needed his best friend had shaken him to his core. It hurt to know that he had brought this end upon the innocent clones, no matter how badly he wanted nothing to do with them.

He didn't realise that he had begun to hug himself protectively until he felt another pair of arms encircle him. He looked up to find the classy clone hugging him, a worried expression on his face. "Toys?"

Sam couldn't help it. He let out a laugh, glad to have the depressing reminiscing interrupted. "Thanks."

The grumpy clone just snorted and rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's get out of here."

The classy clone didn't want to let go of Sam right away, clinging to him as though making sure he was okay. Sam patted him on the arm as best he could with is own pinned to his sides. "I'm okay now, really. You can let go."

The clone's tongue lolled happily out of his mouth as he finally released Sam. "I say, toys!"

The two had to jog to catch up to the other, as he had continued on without them. It didn't take long to reach a small parking lot, surrounded on all sides by fencing, which Sam figured stretched the whole way around the compound. There was a gate with a guard station that looked like it might be the only way in or out.

In the parking lot, there were only three vehicles. One was a delivery van, another a well kept sedan. The clone led Sam to the third, a rusty, dented pickup truck. It had seen better days.

The clone motioned for them to get in, and the classy one jumped into the bed, letting his tongue continue to flop out of his mouth in a clearly happy gesture. The grump shook his head and motioned to the cab. "You know you're not allowed to ride back there in public."

The sharp dressed clone's expression fell, and he sadly got out of the back and lumbered slowly to the front before climbing in with a huff. Sam followed him as the grumpy clone climbed into the driver's seat.

"Hey, wait a second, when did you find time to get a driver's license?" asked Sam.

The clone looked at him, confused. "I didn't, why?" He started up the engine and began to drive. At first, it wasn't bad, but that was because the clone was driving slowly to approach the gate. He stopped at the booth and waved both his and the other clones' ID tags at the man doing guard duty. He almost let them pass before noticing Sam, but the clone was prepared for that, too. He pulled another set of tags from a pocket and displayed them. The guard opened the gate.

Sam had never before had the opportunity to ride shotgun with himself as the driver before. Now he understood why most people driving with him for the first time reacted the way they did. It was a very different situation when he wasn't the one in control of it. If he hadn't been so terrified, he might have felt a little embarrassed by the fact that he was now quite literally clawing at the dash and shrieking like a cheerleader.

All sense of time had abandoned him, so he wasn't really sure how long it took to arrive at Straight Street. Before he knew it, they were screeching to a halt outside the office. Once he managed to pry his fingertips from the dashboard, he shakily disembarked, the two clones joining him. Giving his head a shake to restore equilibrium, he turned to the stairs leading to the entrance.

Flint Paper was standing in the doorway, his gun trained on the three of them. "Hold it right there!"


End file.
